


these endless wars always drive us apart

by AppleJuiz



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Hopeful Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6816373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleJuiz/pseuds/AppleJuiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your mother's name is Sarah," you say, because there was a time for pretending you didn't want to be Bucky Barnes and that time has passed. "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes." You're a dork and I love you more than anything in the world and I'm sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these endless wars always drive us apart

**Author's Note:**

> Just my take on Bucky in Civil War which was amazing and beautiful and I need to go watch it a million more times.

You are tired.

You've been tired for years now, but you can't stop. It'd be so much easier for you to bite the bullet and let it all end, but Steve never backed down from a fight before and it seems it's rubbed off on you.

You decide to leave the world alone, to be as quiet as you can and let things go on, but the world can't seem to leave you alone. Apparently you've killed the king of Wakanda. You're pretty sure that country didn't exist when you knew about the world. And you're also pretty sure you didn't do it. Like 97% sure. You remember most of yesterday, going to market, picking up an nice hand woven wallet.  

So yeah, you probably didn't bomb anything. But the world seems to think you did.

And now Rogers is standing in your kitchen, looking through your notebook because he never did understand privacy. You could leave. You could probably even figure out a way to get your backpack too, without him even noticing, though that would be harder.

But you don't. It's been almost two years since you last saw him. He looks good, better than you. His shoulders are tense though like he's ready to fight and you're pretty sure it's not you, unless he too believes like the rest of the world that you bombed that building.

You probably should leave. But that voice in your head, the one that's probably the only thing remaining of Sergeant James Barnes, begs you to stay, to say something to Steve, to win him back, to protect him again.

So you stay, and Steve turns around and you have missed him for almost 2 years (because you were only you after he woke you up). You don't know what's more surprising the fact that Steve trying to talk you out of a fight or that he's even on your side in the first place.

It's always a fight with Steve, even when you didn't want to fight, you would for Steve, bloodying your fists in back alleys because he needed you to.

You do fight now, for yourself which feels odd, because you have to, because even though it was all your fault, the hundreds dead, the century shaped for the worst, Steve bruised and bloodied and soaked on a riverbank, you promised yourself no one would ever put you in a cell again.

And Steve helps you. Every step of the way even if it feels like you’re running from him as well.  He protects you like you wish you could protect him.

But you lose anyway.

Only it's different now because losing doesn't mean running as fast as you can from the McMurphey brothers or getting a hollering from your mom. Now loosing means getting put in another chair and another glass cage as people in tac suits watch you with contempt. It's the worst kind of déjà vu.

No one else is in a cage, just you. Steve and the others got hauled off into another truck, measly handcuffs that probably don't even contain him. Of course they aren't assassins accused of bombing world leaders. But it feels like every time Steve shows up, you end up getting the brunt end of things.

And now your brain is screaming at you, because it's Steve and for Steve it's all worth it. Steve is precious and if it had to be one of you, you thank anything that's listening that it's you and not Steve.

You arrive at another sterile building, with pristine walls and long hallways, very unoriginal, and you crane your neck to catch a glimpse of Steve before they move you again. His eyes stayed glued to yours until you can't see him anymore, and you wish you had more of your memories back because you used to be able to read those looks in his eyes. 

 

You knew it would happen eventually.

You knew from the second you saw that newspaper that whatever peace you'd found was over.

You knew as soon as you heard a Russian accent from your place in that chair in that cage what was going to happen.

You struggle because you have to try, but your insides are already turning cold, pain is shooting through your head as you try to fight against it. You want to scream, but by then the you that's you is taking the back seat and all the screams get caught in your throat, can't force it out.

You're locked in a different cage now. 

 

When you wake up, you remember almost nothing. Your arm is trapped. You don't know where you are.

You told yourself it would never happen again, but here you are, trapped and unsure of how bad you fucked up this time.

Steve is here though, which makes things different. He doesn't trust you, but why should he. He seems angry and he has every right to be.

"Your mother's name is Sarah," you say, because there was a time for pretending you didn't want to be Bucky Barnes and that time has passed. "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes." _You're a dork and I_ _love you more than anything in the world and I'm sorry._

Steve glances at Sam briefly and then rushes over to get you out of the vice.

When your arm is free, Steve spends a second running his hand up and down your arm, brows furrowing in concern. You barely feel it but it's the first time Steve or anyone has touched you kindly since your fall.

You want to lean into it, pull Steve's hands to your other arm, your shoulder, everywhere all at once.

But you don't deserve it. So you keep your mouth shut and don't make eye contact. 

 

It's all your fault. Steve is fighting a war against his friends and allies, his family in this new century. You're not arrogant enough to think it's all about you. You know there's a bunch of other things at play, but you're the catalyst.

"I'm not worth it," you whisper to your reflection. You only have seconds in the bathroom because any longer someone might think you're running away. You think about running away. It would be better than watching Steve burn down his life for you.

"Steve, I'm not-"

"Hey, Barnes." It's Wilson. "You okay in there."

"Yeah, just a minute," you call gruffly.

You run a hand over your face, and leave the bathroom. But you're too much of a coward to ever say it to his face. 

 

The flight to Siberia takes a lot longer than you thought it would. Steve is quiet. You try to deal with the fact that you just cost Steve everything.

You say it. You tell him just like you planned and he protests, like you thought he would. You're not sure how to convince him. The flight takes hours, and you're not sure what to do.

"Turn me in," you plead. "I don't want to ruin your life, Steve."

"You could never-"

"Steve, don't you see what's happening?"

"Of course I do-"

"Then you know you shouldn't be doing this. If you turn me in, you could get everyone else on your side. You don't have to do this alone, you could have your whole team back together."

"Buck, stop," he says. "It's not worth it without you. None of it is. I know what it's like to do this without you and it's not something I want to do ever again."

"Steve-"

"No. I lost you once, I'm not going to let you go ever again, okay?" He snaps, turning around in his seat.

Your heart jumps in your chest, even though you know it's not what it sounds like. You're staring into his blue, blue eyes, and you can't breathe.

"You'll hate me," you breathe. "You'll realize how much you gave up for this and you'll realize it's not worth it and you'll hate me."

"Buck," he replies, eyes wide and heartbroken. "I'd never-"

"You say that now, but-"

"Bucky, please. Trust me," he pleads, leaning forward and grabbing your hands, both of them. They're warmer than they've ever been, and you can't breathe. "I won't ever regret protecting you. You're my best friend."

"I'm not that man," you confess, not moving a muscle.

"It doesn't matter," he says. "You don't have to be. It's still you. It's always you."  He leans forward and your heart stops.  But he doesn't kiss you, just presses his forehead against yours, staring at you like you have all the answers.

And just when you feel the confession that's been building since you were seventeen years old and dreamed about his mouth pushing its way out, he squeezes your hand one more time and gets up.

"We're close to landing," he announces softly, and leaves the cockpit. You don't punch anything even though you really want to. You start to get ready. 

 

You remember Dot. You remember a bright eyed girl with a smile that shined. You remember dancing with her, eyes always glancing back to Steve rather than her as you two spun across the room.  You remember looking at her and thinking sure. She was sweet and pretty and maybe it was mean but if you couldn't have Steve, she was just fine to settle for. And you were never going to get to have Steve.

You think she knew, which is why she left you. And it didn't hurt all that much, but Steve seemed pretty upset for you.

Dot was one of many, you remember. You hope they all are happy wherever they are now, with families and husbands who love them fully. You hope they found better than you.

You wonder if after all this you'll have to start that again. Dating girls so Steve and the neighbors don't get worried. Potentially ruining some girl's life because Steve can never be yours and that's it for you.

You wonder if it'll be the other way around. Steve finding girl after girl that loves him, and find someone to spend the rest of his life with. You'll be happy for him, just like he'd been happy for you every time. But you'll be alone this time, letting the world pass you by because it's not Steve.

It can never be Steve. 

 

He almost dies for you. He knows, he sees the worst of you, the you that deserves every awful thing that's happened. And he still protects you.

And you protect him. And he protects you. You would die for him.

And Steve is always trying to die for something and this time he's doing it for you.

It's too much. 

 

He gives up the shield.

Not for you. Of course it's not for you.

But through the thick haze of pain, pain in your arm, pain in your heart, you watch him drop it and bring his hand around to wrap around your waist.

You lean into him, but not too much. You used to dream about him holding you close like this, haven't had him pressed against you since Azzano and the pain that started all other pain. This time you lean on each other.

"You knew," you rasp, focusing on your feet and moving forward.

He pauses, and nods, helping you stumble up the first steps.

"Then why?"

"Because you're my friend," Steve breathes, just like he told Tony. "Because it wasn't your fault."

"You saw-"

"You didn't even recognize him. Howard. He said your name and you didn't even flinch. How can you say that was you?"

You don't reply. Steve seems satisfied, and pounds his fist into the button for the elevator.  On the way down, you stood feet apart, comfortably silent and determined. You ride back up, plastered against each other, and you bury your head in his neck, smeared with blood, and you cry. 

 

You need to protect him. He almost died for you. He gave up everything. You need to stop him.

It's cold outside the base, which is when you get the idea.

It's the only way to keep him safe. None of this would have happened if you hadn't been controlled. None of this would have happened if you were kept in one place where you couldn't hurt people or be accused of anything or be found.

You don't tell him. You tell T'Challa, when you finally learn his name, and he nods solemnly but calls ahead to his staff.  He offers you anything else his country can supply, reparations for his actions. You turn him down because if anyone should be making reparations... It's ironic.

Steve is exhausted, and you'd offer to fly the plane but there's a gaping hole where your arm used to be.

"Just get some rest Buck," he says, eyes drooping. "I'll be fine."

You sit right next to him, wrap your arms around his waist. He sighs contently, and rests his temple against your head.

"It's all gonna be alright," Steve whispers. You know. You'll make sure of it. 

 

It's been a few days. Steve has already healed completely. You share a room in T'Challa's palace. (A fucking palace, like you weren't sleeping in a van two days ago.)   
The sheets are soft and the windows are wide. You wake up screaming some nights and so does Steve. Sometimes you wake up and the sun shines through the window, and you look over and see Steve in his own bed, looking calm, and you wonder if you're making a mistake.

But then T'Challa says everything is ready and you sit Steve down on your bed, place your hand on his shoulder and tell him what you want to do.

"B-but... Bucky, why?" He asks, eyes watering. "You don't... I can- I'll protect you, you don't have to worry about anyone hurting you again. I won't let them. We can protect you here, or we can go somewhere else."

You shake your head, because you need to do this, you need to protect him.

"I want to do this, Steve," you say calmly.

"But..." He seems to catch himself, and swallows hard. "If that's what you want."  Every word seems to pain him. He closes his eyes.

"It won't be forever," you say. He nods again, reaches up to grab your hand.

"Whatever you want, Buck. Whatever... Whatever makes you feel safe."

You smile at him, and he tears up again, squeezing your hand.

"Hey Steve, can you do just one thing for me?" You ask, even though you really shouldn't.

"Anything, Buck," Steve says.

"If..." You begin, and then you correct yourself, for him. "When they wake me up, could you be there? I, uh, I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Where the hell else would I be?" Steve asks, standing up and placing his hands on your waist. "God Buck, if you don't think I'm gonna do whatever I can to get you out of that tube as soon as possible, I honestly don't think you've been paying attention."

You lean up and kiss him. He gasps deep in his throat, but it's okay because you'll finally sleep and he can leave you behind, and maybe he'll hate you, but it won't matter.

You pull away quickly and step back. He's staring at you, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

"Bucky," he breathes.

"I'm gonna go," you say, but his hands reach out, pulling you close. His mouth lands on yours again, hand cups the back of your head.

You fist your hand in his t shirt, squeeze your eyes shut. His lips are as smooth as you always thought they would be, and they glide over yours, soft and desperate.

And then it's over.

"Do you have to go?" Steve asks, running his hand along your shoulder, hugging you close.

"Steve, I can't," you whisper.

He nods, pressing his lips together. He kisses you again, briefly, longingly.

"Okay," he sighs.  "I love you."

"I love you, too," you say, like you've always wanted, it feels like your heart is full.

"And it won't be forever," he says, like he's reassuring himself. You nod.

"I promise, Stevie," you whisper.

"Okay," he breathes. 

 

The tube is a warm orange color. It looks comfortable and sleek not bulky and rusted like the old one. Steve is here, which makes it all different.

You give him a soft smile before it starts and he nods, teeth clenched. You close your eyes as the machine starts and it's okay because he'll be there when you wake up.   
**  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [tumblr](http://applejuiz.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also I have a [book out](https://cristinafernandezbooks.com/books/people-like-us/)


End file.
